


Raca

by MapleMeSyrup



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap, Body mutilation, Branding, Cauterization, Forced Cannibalism, Other, Rape, Reader Insert, Torture, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, Urination, Vomit, Vore, Yanderes - Freeform, gender neutral reader, limb separation, mind break and kidnapping.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 04:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12225855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleMeSyrup/pseuds/MapleMeSyrup
Summary: This is a highly disturbing one shot. Please mind the tags before you proceed.Blue gains a new toy.





	Raca

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags.

You were beautiful once.

With shining eyes glittering with passion and love, a bright future ahead of you with skeletal children in the arms of your skeleton boyfriend whom you love so dearly. You were supposed to graduate school, get your degrees, settle into the right job, live the perfect life. But he stole everything from you. He the one that drew you in with his sweet smile, the one that you trusted immediately with his starry eyes, the one that promised you an immortal future.

You never suspected anything as you kissed and smiled upon your love. He always gave you his orange hoodie when you were cold, fresh with wafting cigarette smoke with a hint of laundry detergent. Despite his utter laziness, his disregard for your feelings at times, and his preference for sinking into an existential crisis, you loved his flaws, and you knew that he loved you too. Even his brother was like a brother to you. The shorter skeleton was always so bright and cheerful, eager to please. He was so easy to love, and you enjoyed being around him as much as you enjoyed being around your boyfriend. They could’ve been the perfect family.

But now you’re dangling from the ceiling in a freezing shed, your clothes long gone and your skin blue as ice. Your wrists are bound together by sharp metal handcuffs pressing onto your bleeding wrists. skin chafed and bruised as the metal digs into your skin, leaving angry purple impressions. Your legs hover a few feet off the ground dusty floor where dried blood stains splatter like paint while your entire weight pulls you down on the cuffs. A metal chain link connects to the cuffs and travel to the other side of the room in a rowing machine, probably for your captor to use as he pleases. As far as you can see in the darkness, you’re being held in some kind of shed with no windows and ventilation, and the temperature colder than a freezer. Sharp metal tools that you’ve never even seen before line the shelves neatly and in perfect order like precious little dolls. Seeing the shining glint on their edges sends a shiver down your spine.

Panic rises within  you like a knife carving butter; the silence driving to insanity with the sound of your own blood dripping accompanying you. The last thing you remember is drinking tea that the shorter skeleton made for you, then you fell right into the darkness, screaming as the pit in your stomach grew into black hole, but nobody came. You’re not stupid, you know that he drugged you, but you can’t figure out why. Weren’t you a good datemate to his brother? Didn’t you treat him like he was your own sibling? You gave the two brothers every ounce of adoration you had, why would he betray you like this? Once more, you struggle in your cuffs, but you strength is long gone by now, your muscles sore and burning.

After what feels like hours, a wooden door swings open and you snap your head to the source, and you wince in pain as the sudden jerk rushed blood to your head and stars burst in your vision, leaving you temporarily blind and only able to make out a small silhouette. Once you’re able to see again, the small skeleton approaches you, with the same sweet smile and giggle, a pair a shiny metal scissors in his hands.

“Good morning, Sibling!” his smooth voice sings.

You frantically ask him what’s going on and why he’s doing this.

His smile instantly dips, and his cerulean eyes goes ice gold, blank and emotionless, “You know why I’m doing this.”

You shake your head fearfully. What is he talking about?! You don’t know! What’s going on!

“Enough talking,” Sans kicks the rowing machine and instantly you fall on the ground, the hard floor bruising your knees on impact, but you don’t care, you’re just so relieved to relax your sore arms, blood pulsing through like fire.

You lower your head, taking deep breathes, despite the foul smell emitting from your body, like dead fish and decomposing oranges. The short skeleton grabs a fistful of your hair and yank your head up, forcing you to meet his crazed, yet calm eye sockets, like staring into the eyes of the devil. A cyan blue tongue slips out of his mouth, licking his teeth like a wolf preparing to devour his meal as he trace the tips of the metal scissors down your cheeks, pushing it in hard enough to draw blood. At this point, you’re too terrified to scream, paralyzed with shock and confusion. The world around you blurs, the demon before you is the only thing static. He runs his fingers through your hair, admiring your locks. Without another warning, he snips the blade and you watch snippets of your hair fall in front of your eyes like leaves. Coming to your senses, you scream and scramble as far away as you can, before he tsked and yanks hard on your chain, pulling you back before him.

“Now now, sib, good dolls stay in place,” his grin stretches wider than you thought possible, “But I’m going to punish you, so you remember.”

Grabbing your hair once more and keeping your head locked under his arms, he chops off more of your locks, but this time, the snips too close to your head, cutting off pieces of your skin and flesh along with it. You try your best to keep quiet and still so you wouldn’t have to face his wrath, but you distressed whimpers escape you, your head burning in bleeding agony. Raw.

The skeleton gleefully claps at his masterpiece, placing a mirror before you. Surrounded by a sea of your own hair, you stare horrified at your reflection. Patches of blood expose your scraped skin, stinging as the air drifts against it.

You vomit at his feet.

He flinches and kicks some of the bile back at your face in disgust.

“You should be grateful. You look much better this way.” and with that, he strings you back up, and slams the door behind him.

You drown in your own tears that night.

* * *

 

 

You don’t know when you passed out, or if you ever did. Your night was filled with endless hallucinations and nightmares, never being able to sleep yet not awake either. You hang on the precipice of consciousness and slumber, never truly being able to commit to one.  You jolt up once the small skeleton throws a bucket of ice cold water on you, your body trembling from the sudden shock, teeth chattering in response. His expression remains neutral, as if he’s bored of this treatment.

 

You call out his name. Ask him once more why he’s doing this. What did you do to deserve this. No response. You ask him why why why why why why why why why please just let you go. You won’t come near him or his brother again, just let you have your freedom that’s all you want, please, HAVE MERCY.

 

The small skeleton slaps you hard across your cool cheek, the smack echoing in the dark shed. You breath heavily, blinking twice after realizing what he had done.

 

“You’re annoying. Shut up,”

 

You shake off your initial shock, and fall your fists in pure rage, a volcano of fury exploding in you as you spit upon the skeleton. You don’t deserve this, he’s sick in the head, you will not just lie there and let him do what he wants to you. You’re in idiot. You fell for his cute tricks and happy facade, and you will never ever forgive him for holding you captive like this. Once you get out, you’re going to make sure your lover knows the truth about his brother, and you two will run away together, leaving this nightmare behind.

 

The monster wipes your saliva off his face, his eye twitching, but stays composed. You don’t care, you continue to scream, thrash, and throw insults at his face, never minding the consequences. You’re in too much pain and fear to care at this point, just throwing everything you have onto the dirty skeleton. You snarl as he comes closer, nearly biting off his hands when he tries to touch you.

 

Sighing in disappointment, the skeleton kicks the chain machine, bringing you back down to your knees, but this time, you were prepared. He lifts up your chin and you growl in defiance, but to your diminishing  hopes, he unshackles you from your chains, freeing your wrists for the first time. You gasp as the metal clanks to the ground and you gently rub your painful wrists in wonder, squeezing it to relieve the pain. But he crushes that false hope as soon as he gave it. Grabbing you by the neck with surprising strength, and throws you on a cold metal slab, typing your wrists and ankles down with leather buckles to prevent you from escape. Your heartbeat drums loudly, almost deafening as you’re overcome by fear, the small defiance ebbing away as the small skeleton neatly align several tools on a tray, inspecting each one lovingly like a doctor preparing to perform surgery on his prey.

 

“You’re a pest” the small skeleton rolls his eyes, his starry eyes twitching, “it’d be a hassle to worry about you alerting someone that you’re here, but don’t worry, I have the perfect solution.”

 

He takes a small scalpel, the size of his finger, and pushes your head up, exposing your throat. Eyes widening, you struggle with all your might, but his grip remains strong. With expert precision, he slices at your throat vertically, working quickly with his hands. Your shriek as a soaring pain claws at your neck, a searing white and cold press, yet burning like a sun exploding. You can’t see what’s he’s doing, but hard fingers probe your neck, pushing your veins and arteries aside like they were mere nuisances, rather than life sustaining necessities. A dull ache throbs as you could feel your muscles tense, until his eyes light up into bright little stars, the same ones he gazed upon you with when you first met. You choke on your own blood, the red fluid gurgling in your mouth, spilling everywhere, even splattering on the skeleton’s skull, but he doesn’t seem to mind.  Instead, you could feel his hands wrap around something, and without warning, he yanks it out, a torrent of blood spraying everywhere as your screams die with your hopes. The overwhelming, indescribable, white hot  agony drowns you in your misery and your body convulses as your mind flashes snippets of memories, completely incomprehensible.

 

“Now, now, don’t be a baby, I’m not letting you break that easily,” you can’t see what he’s doing, but you could feel him squeeze your sliced skin together, and you thankfully blackout soon after.

 

You dream of an orange sky, a wave of pure white clouds dancing across the horizon. Somewhere in the distance, the glittering yellow waves crash onto the smooth rocks, with the seagulls cawing happily. You’re at the edge of a cliff, with the unforgiving rocks and ocean down below, ready to reclaim your life. Your lover stands before you, his signature smoke billowing above him, completely shadowing his face. You cry out his name and he extends his hand towards you, but before you can reach back, the world shifts sideways and your head smashes against the rocks.

 

Your entire body twitches you away and your eyes jolt up with hyperventilating terror. Sighing in relief, you realize that it was only a nightmare, before remembering where you are. You were wrong. This is the nightmare, the other was a dream. The metal cuffs bind your wrists once more.

 

“Oh! You’re awake! I was just finishing up. Just one more to go!” the small monster squeals excitedly before you, clasping his metal extraction forceps.

 

The burning soreness hits you like a truck once you see your perfect and bloody teeth in a tray beside you. You run your tongue over your gums in denial that they are really yours. Empty. Your mouth is completely empty, except for one front tooth. Your throat muscles tighten up as you try to scream, to let out your pain, your anguish, your heartbreak, but nothing. Nothing comes out except the tears swelling in your eyes, and the blood oozing from your gums. Your heart stops.

 

“Ah, so you noticed! I took out those pesky vocal chords earlier, you won’t be needing those anymore!”

 

You slump against your chains, utterly defeated. How could this have happened? Where did you go wrong in life? What did you do to deserve this?

 

The skeleton frowns, “Don’t be so down, Sib! We’ll have lots more fun this way, now that no one can interfere. Now, be a good doll and let me get this one last tooth out. It’s bugging me.”

 

With what little fight left you have, you clamp down your mouth, and shake your head, protesting his firm grip on your sore jaws. Out of pure frustration, he pinches your nose, cutting off your airflow. You continue to struggle, suffering every second in suffocation until your body betrays you as you let out a gasp for fresh air. The monster shoves his fist inside your mouth to keep it open, allowing some space for the last tooth. Clicking his prong, he yanks the tooth out, and presses a cotton ball against the empty site, your tears not enough for the gut wrenching torment.

 

The small monster giggles in content as he wipes your blood on his apron. You look at your own clothes, soiled with your own blood and piss and you wish for him to give you one kindness and give you something fresh to wear. Not that you can ever express that now.

 

“You must be hungry. What kind of master would I be if I didn’t feed my toys?” he reaches for a nearby cup and removes the cotton balls, then presses the glass  against your mouth to drink.

 

You can’t see the dark liquid inside, but judging by the rancid, sweet smell, you abhorrently refuse. With his eye twitching, the monster forces your mouth open once more and shoves the cup in your orifice, hitting your sensitive bleeding gums as they burn like hellfire, and forces the smoothie like contents down your throat. You have no choice but to swallow, and you thank to whatever god out there that it goes directly down your throat so you don’t have to taste it too much. Once it’s all gone, you dry heave, but otherwise seem okay. After what you’ve been through so far, you can handle a disgusting smoothie.

 

“Did you like it?” his starry eyes shine, fully expecting an answer.

 

You nod your head to satisfy him.

 

He claps happily. “Mwhehe! It’s a very special cocktail you know! I made it with your very own vocal chords and blood! I also added in a little bit of taco seasoning for extra flavor!”

 

Your blood runs cold as the slosh in your stomach suddenly become ten times heavier. Trembling radically, you will yourself to throw up, but the fluids stubbornly remain, persistent to eat you alive. You can’t do this anymore, you’ve had enough. Your own liquefied organs fester in your stomach, almost like acid. The small monster hums as he pats your head and leaves you alone for the night.

 

Your dark thoughts do not make good company.

* * *

 

 

Your stomach growls and your eye droop lazily. He hasn’t fed you since what you think is yesterday. It’s hard to tell. There’s no way to tell time in the shed. Your environment doesn’t change, and it’s been ages since the skeleton has tortured you, giving you quite the reprieve, but you know that he’s going to try to do something again. It’s inevitable. Since he took away your voice, he only visits you to feed you some kind of fruit juice that you hate to admit is rather delicious. Strawberries and banana. He talks to you about his day, about being in the sunlight with his friends, how he refined his taco recipe, about how the human ambassador got an A in their class. But he never talks about his brother, and you can’t even ask. He knows that, and keeps the information from you on purpose. Another one of his games.

 

Today, he doesn’t bring the usual drink, much to your disappointment. Instead, he carries a plastic box with him, throwing it on the table beside you. You tilt your head in confusion.

 

“I realize that I have not been a gracious Master!” the smaller skeleton fiddles with the handles of the box.

 

You give him a pointed look.

 

“A good master must meet all of his toy’s needs, and I have done all but one!”

 

You eyebrows stitch together, wondering what he could mean by that. You highly doubt that he’ll meet your need for freedom or a change of clothes at least, so what more could he possibly do to you? You really have to stop asking yourself that question.

 

He slices your clothes off your body, leaving you completely bare before him. You flush in shame as his gaze lingers for a moment, then he shrugs, as if deciding you're not interesting enough. On the bright side, you’re out of those filthy clothes.  The monster pulls out a long, purple dildo and flips a switch, turning on the high vibration and a part of you sighs in relief. You can handle rape, as fucked up as that sounds. You’re not exactly chaste, and you could force yourself to like this to make it as painless as possible. When he approaches you, you neither protest nor eagerly present your sex, only hang in there, almost lifelessly against your chains. He presses the toy against your quivering hole, the vibrations sending shocks towards your sex, and with no foreplay or lube, he shoves it right in. Throwing your head back in a silent scream, your thigh muscles tense as the burning sensation sears through you like a warring fire. Your toes curls from the pain and you pant desperately to get yourself to lubricate it enough, but to no avail. Even so, waves of pleasure runs  through your body, sparking intense heat in your sensitive sex, your arousal fogging up your mind until your body spasms with a painful orgasm, like ripping duct tape off your skin mixed with tingling electricity. The vibrator continue to violently thrash in your hole, but to your surprise, the small skeleton flips the switch off, though he keeps the toy inside. After coming down from your unwanted high, you finally take a look at the monster; his eye sockets are dark and blank, his mouth slightly open like a panting dog. His gaze are fixed upon you, or your thighs to be exact, his hands tracing up your meaty flesh. For a moment, you think he’s going to fuck you, with him looking at you like that. He trails his teeth across your skin, and you’re half tempted to kick him away, but you’re too scared of losing your legs. If he wants to force himself on you….you can take it.

 

If only if it was that easy.

 

You spread your legs a little wider for easy access, hopefully making this quick and to the point, but instead of plunging himself in you like you thought he would, he opens his stretched mouth and chomps down hard on your meaty thigh.  You soundlessly shriek and flail, but the monster hangs onto you, ripping out your flesh and devouring it like a starved animal. No matter how hard you try, you cannot will yourself to faint, nor do you have the courage to look down and see yourself missing a chunk of your body. The small skeleton doesn’t stop there. Instead, he sadistically switches the vibrator on and continues devouring your legs, though avoiding your major veins and arteries and instead focusing on the fat meat and tearing them into shreds. You can’t even fight back as his inhuman grip immobilizes you, enforcing the sensations of both the toy and the vore.

 

You hate to admit it, but even with an actual monster eating you, the vibrations bury deep inside you stimulates your sensitive spots, bringing you both pleasure and pain. You’re stuck on a tightrope, forced to reach the other side to maintain your sanity, but with a ball chain dragging you behind on both ankles. You will never reach the other side.

 

You can’t help it, you cum harder than you ever had in your entire life, your fluids spraying all over the monster’s head head as he continues to dine on your thighs, now just finishing up with your other leg. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your tongue hangs out of your lewdly though the monster seems to have finished his meal, leaving you are slightly disappointed. You need  more. Dear stars, you need his teeth slowly breaking you apart into nothingness, consuming your flesh as you become a part of him. Yes, you would like that; for him to completely take you as a part of him, freeing you from this cursed place. The mere thought of that arouses you even further and you desperately shove your sex in his face as he wipes his mouth out with his sleeve. You silently moan and mew, begging for him.

 

The small skeleton pushes your pelvis away in disgust.

 

“Just because you taste good, doesn’t mean I want that part of you,” he looks down at your thighs, with chunks of meat missing like a barely eaten fried chicken, “But I can’t have you dying on me, so I better take care of those wounds.”

 

With all the blood leaking out from you and the violent orgasms, you slowly slip into unconsciousness, but for the first time, you desperately held on. Fatigue slowly takes you over, and through your drooping eyes, you see a glowing red light pressed hotly against your thighs, the sweet sizzle scorching your wounds together, smelling of burnt barbeque, thus trapping the blood in one place. Although you want nothing more than to cry out in agony, you instead laugh to yourself til you pass out.

 

* * *

 

 

You stopped caring. Your captor must have given you a small mercy by letting you lay on the floor, rather than dangle from from the ceiling, giving you some rest. If you keep cooperating, he’ll keep rewarding you. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and tears swell up in your eyes as the poor, helpless victim stares back. All of your hair is gone, though the patches healed up nicely, leaving you with pink spots all over. Your eyes are dark and sullen, with layers upon layers of bags, almost looking like a skeleton yourself while your smile is completely taken away from you, leaving only swollen red gums in it’s place. Not that it will ever matter anyway, you don’t think you can express true happiness ever again. Looking down at your legs, you flinch back in horror as your heart clenches in denial, unable to accept that you will never return to normal again. The majority of your lower half is still intact, but huge chunks have been ripped out like you’ve been attacked by a shark, and the entire wound and skin around etched completely black like midnight. You gently touched a part of the black and burnt meat, wincing at the tenderness, yet marveling at the bumpy, gravel like texture. You pull your hand away before you get sick again. An itch creeps up your eye and you rub it hard, forgetting how filthy your hand is, and when stop, a silver glint gleams from the metal table. Curious, you reach towards it, the chains holding you back, but you have enough flexibility to pull it towards you. Opening your palm, you gasp in shock once you see a silver key, and with no time to waste, you unlock your shackles. The metal comes off with a heavy clank. Without any hesitation, you scramble to your feet, but stumble as soon as you do, your legs burning and soft like jelly. You’re not fully healed. You growl in frustration, determined leave behind this hellscape. With no other choice, your lift up your arms and crawl towards the exit, dragging your body along the stone floor.

 

Eventually you reach the main house, struggling as you try to reach the doorknob, but with your flexibility, you manage to get it open. Your best bet is to find your lover. There’s no point in calling the police if you can’t talk, and you doubt any stranger would be friendly to you considering your current appearance.  

 

As if a ray of angelic light descended from the heavens, your lover lazes around on the hideous green couch, flipping through the tv  channels with a smoke in his mouth. He looks so normal, so peaceful, and you’re here on the floor, dragging your bloody self back from hell. Crawling towards him, he doesn’t notice you until you reach for his ankle. The tall skeleton shrieks back in shock, readying a bone attack at your head before you throw your hands in surrender, your eyes begging him to recognize you and help you. His eye sockets blink in shock as he shouts your name and steps closer, but still not close enough. You throw yourself on him, kneeling on the carpet as you sob silently into his shorts. A flood of relief washes over you, knowing that you’re safe now, and that you and him will run away together. Your lover stands still with uncertainty, gently supporting you in his arms to keep you from collapsing again. Smoke and oranges. He smells like home.

 

“Papy! Have you seen my-” the small skeleton rushes down stairs, his starry eye sockets twitching in annoyance once he sees you, “Well, I know where my keys are now.”

 

As the small skeleton stomps over to you, you squeal and hide behind your lover’s long legs, as if that could save you.

 

“Sans, I told you to stop doing this,” your lover groans as if scolding him for losing a shoe, his voice bored and irritated, a sudden change than what he was like before.

 

“I know but, the last one broke and I really like this toy! It’s my favorite so far! Please let me keep it!” the small monster complains.

 

The tall skeleton sighs, and your heart drums loudly once you realize the horrors behind these two brothers. Hoping no one would notice while they were bickering, you try your best to crawl away and out of the house where you can admit yourself to the hospital, but instead, the monster grabs you by the neck and holds you up enough to lift your feet off the ground. Your lip quivers as you silently choke and beg him with your eyes to let you go and free you, but his expressions stays neutral, cold, with no ounce of the love and care he once had. He takes one look at your pitiful, monstrous form  and digs his cigarette from his mouth with his free hand then smashes it against your cheek, your skin blistering and boiling from the burn. A silent scream rips out of you as your body convulses from the heated sting, thrashing mid air in your lover’s grip.

 

“K’ bro. I never liked this one much anyway. Here ya go,”

 

His betrayal slaps you right across the face and hurts more than any torture inflicted on you.

 

The tall skeleton throws you right at at his brother’s feet and he giggles, so childish and high, the voice of a demon, “Thank you brother! This won’t be happening again,”

 

Your captor grips you by the neck once and cheerfully drags our body back to hell. You don’t care. You’re too numb. Your last light, your last humanity, your last hope dies, as you watch him stare back at you emotionlessly, uncaringly, and the love that you had for him, the future you two could have had, blackens to hatred.

 

He throws you back into the shed, shackling your wrists and pulling you back up above the ground. You’re use to the pain and soreness by now, so it doesn’t even bother you. The monster isn’t angry, much to your surprise, but you would’ve prefered it if he were. A demonic smile stretches wider across his face as he studies the walls of tool, stroking each one lovingly.

 

Finally, he reaches for a chainsaw, testing the edges for the sharpness. A knot tightens in your stomach in anticipation, and you shake your head, wordlessly begging him not to do this. You’ll be good, just please stop. Whether he understood you or not, it doesn’t matter. Pulling on the rope, the engine roars to life, like the growls of a lion. The monsters laughs maniacally, and swings down hard on your left thigh, cutting through the meat and bone in less than a minute. Blood splatters everywhere, drowning both you and the monster in deep red, and your discarded leg falls on the floor with a thud. You’re drowning in a sea of agony, it’s only intent to make you suffer as much as possible. Before you could even react, he slices off your last leg, and you catch a glimpse of the bones sticking out of your stump unnaturally with vines of arteries and veins drooping out. The monster steps on your torn off body parts with a squish and raises the chainsaw above his head, and brings it down on your right arm. Your body suddenly swings sideways from the imbalance, with all your weight on only one wrist now. On the bright side, you just lost a lot  of weight.

 

You can’t stand it anymore, as he thrusts the chainsaw down again, you stick your neck out closer in hope that it would get caught in the blades and kill you, but there’s no such thing as mercy. Instead, he saws off the last of your limbs and what’s left of your body falls on the cement, splashing in your own blood. Your head hits the cement hard, and all that’s left is darkness.

* * *

 

 

Time doesn’t exist anymore. Light, happiness, pain, misery, laughter, you can’t remember what they are. Your world now are these grey walls, cold cement floor, and his smiling face, who caresses your cheeks, and coos in affection. You forgot his name, but his blue starry eyes are the only drop of color in this dull existence. You mentally call him Blue, and you recognize him as your God.  He’s your most gracious god, who takes care of you despite being a maggot underneath his feet. You’re nothing now, with no limbs to support you, rendering you useless. You’re a waste of space yet, he’s the one that brings you a comfortable chair for support. He’s the one that feeds you and makes sure that you’re healthy. He’s the one that keeps you alive when you know very well that you shouldn’t be. And you love him for that.

 

Master brings you your food and though your taste buds are long disintegrated from a time of stubbornness and defiance, the  effects remain the same. After taking in the drink, your body instantly relaxes, a hazy smile stretches across your face as your mind reaches the heavens. No, that’s wrong. This is heaven. Paradise is wherever your master resides, and it is your duty, your destiny to please him and you shall do so with eagerness. He stares at you longer, tilting his head to the side. You mimic him. His blue gloved hand twitches and he reaches to caress your face. You happily lean into his touch as the leather glides across your bruised cheeks until they creep up your lower eyelid. With a beautiful smirk, your master pushes his gloved fingers inside your eyelid and crawls under your eyeball, scooping it up, and pulling it out. Your vision blurs as he digs around your eye socket, and you embrace the pain, like a thousand knives stabbing you in your eyes at once, because that’s what master wants you to do. Pleasure, pain, it’s all the same. Your right vision goes completely dark and with your other eye, you can see him stretching your pumping nerves and veins, grinning as a he gives one final hard tug and your eyeball completely detaches itself from your head. Blood sprays down your eye sockets, and you keep your smile, not minding that some of the red bitter and metallic fluids flows down to your mouth. Your eye socket buzzes intensely like each inch is covered in bee stings, but you don’t pay attention. You lovingly watch your master squish the little ball in his hand before throwing his head back and drops your eyeball into his mouth. Your sex grows in arousal, knowing that a little part of you is in him. As if sensing your sex, your master graciously pulls his dick out, the short, but girthy length glows in a blue appearance. He giggled sadistically, as he tugs it a few times, before  ramming it straight into your fresh eye socket. He keeps it still for a moment, and the throbbing muscles in your cavity feels his dick swell inside. Your master lets out a pleased sigh and before you know it, hot fluids pull up your socket, burning with such intensity like the sun exploding a million times in your socket. The piss overflows and you manage to catch some of the golden ambrosia with your tongue, and your nearly cream yourself from the taste.

 

Master pulls out and cups your chin, his left eye glowing brightly, “You are almost perfect. Just one more thing.”

 

He rushes to the main house and comes back a few moments later with a metal rod in his hand, dark and smooth, with some symbols on the end that you cannot read. You squint to get a better look, but with only one eye, you instantly give up and lean back against your chair, happy to receive whatever he gives you. Master spends several minutes lighting up the fireplace, stroking the flames tenderly as the orange light blazes beautifully. The cackles of the fire nearly lull you to sleep, your eyes drooping, though your injured eye still burns like the flames in the pit.

 

Finally, he places the metal rod in the fire, twisting it to get the temperature to even out on all sides, and soon, he removes it and inspects it carefully. The pattern on the end glows bright yellow, like the wrath of an angel’s soul and he brings it close enough where you can feel the heat rolling off in waves. He strokes his chin, wondering where to put it, then a light bulb goes off in his head. Guiding the tip up to your forehead, Master gently presses it against you, the anguish burning in multiples as the skin scrunches up and blackens. Smoke rises from the contact, and the sweet stretch of scotching flesh fills your nostrils. You just sit there, smiling, no longer flinching from the pain, because pain doesn’t exist. You are free.

 

“Perfect,” he strokes the branding affectionately, “Now you’re truly mine. All mine,”

 

Your love for him is eternal, everlasting, unconditional. He knows what’s best for you, for you are a helpless maggot while he’s the brilliance of heaven and stars. To be called his and only his, you’re descended up in a sea of happiness, knowing that your life, your soul, your will is utterly devoted to him and only him. There is no one that can come apart between you two; torturer and victim, friends and enemies, executioner and prisoner, there will never be a stronger bond.

 

Master places a mirror in front of you, and your heart leaps at the reflection. You’ve never seen anyone more beautiful. Your bald head shines brightly with the light, your patches of pink reminding you a cow. Your left eye is completely gone, leaving nothing but the empty abyss of your eye socket, still bleeding and crying urine. Occasionally, your black tongue would dance across your face for a taste of the mixed fluids. Your mouth holds your smile, toothless, and full of pink gums and blood. You have a habit of grinding your mouth together, leaving the gums sore and scratchy at all times, but that doesn’t bother you too much. Your stumps are limp at the moment, but the stubs are bandage free with an x shaped scar at the zenith, marking you of this fate while your neck is stitched up vertically, also with tiny Xs running down the middle. And the beautiful, the most beautiful gift he bestowed upon you, proof of his ownership as he named you; a promise of forever. A single branding etched into your forehead, a single word, a single name.

 

Raca.


End file.
